OWNING UP: Giants quarterback Eli Manning hangs his head during last night’s 17-16 loss to the Redskins, whose owner, Dan Snyder, said to an employee after the game, ‘I hate those mother[bleepers]!’ in reference to Big Blue.Getty Image

Dan Snyder (UPI)

OWNING UP: Giants quarterback Eli Manning hangs his head during last night’s 17-16 loss to the Redskins, whose owner, Dan Snyder (inset), said to an employee after the game, ‘I hate those mother[bleepers]!’ in reference to Big Blue. (Getty Images (above); UPI (inset))

LANDOVER, Md. — Well, you didn’t expect Dan Snyder, the owner of the Redskins, to embrace prosperity with the humility of a Mara or a Tisch, did you? So after years of running a beloved civic trust into the ground, after years of losing, of abject failure, Danny Boy had himself a moment in the sun last night.

He saw his football team come back at the defending champion Giants, take a 17-16 lead early in the fourth quarter, then hold off the flood, the inevitable Eli Manning comeback. Twice Manning had the ball in the game’s final 10 minutes. There were 80,246 people inside FedEx Field bracing for heartache.

It never happened. The Redskins won. The Giants lost. The NFC East is wide open, and after years of slipping on banana peels, the Redskins finally had a moment equal to their proud history. And so Snyder, in front of several media witnesses, had this to say to a Redskins staffer:

“I hate those mother[bleepers],” Snyder said gleefully.

So, yes: If you wondered if this somnambulant rivalry was ever going to get a wake-up call, consider it rousted, and resurrected. Of course, it’s hard to blame Snyder, no matter how detestable a character he might be.

The Redskins are in that phase of rehabilitation that inspires giddiness, that brings out the little kid in every fan. Snyder just voiced what millions of steadfast Redskins supporters have muttered under their breath as they have watched the Cowboys, Giants and Eagles qualify for seven Super Bowls (and win five of them) since the Redskins were last relevant.

The difference between the Giants and the Redskins at this point is eerily similar to what we saw two months ago in the renewed relationship between the Yankees and the Orioles: one old-guard team (and fan base) used to winning, expecting it, demanding it and (often as not) delivering it in business-like fashion; one new-age team teaching its city to fall back in love again, one game, one victory, one nugget of success at a time.

The audible difference is staggering.

Which means the tangible difference is thinner than it has been in years.

“We had an opportunity here today,” Giants coach Tom Coughlin said, knowing full well the importance of depriving a starving team and a famished town any morsel of success. “And we didn’t do what we needed to do.”

The Giants were like this once upon a time, of course, the Coughlin Giants learning how to win, rallying behind a kid quarterback named Eli Manning. Back in 2005 it was the Eagles who had ruled the East for years and it was the Giants who were trying to upend their culture and alter the shape of the division.

How did they do that? By beating the Eagles, by stomping them at home by 10 points and by squeezing by them in overtime in Philadelphia. That was the year Wellington Mara passed away (which the Giants commemorated by obliterating the Redskins 36-0 a few days after his funeral), and it is impossible to imagine the Duke having a similar reaction to Snyder had he been able to see his beloved team win the division at season’s end.

At the least, he would have chosen some different idioms.

But the feeling is a familiar one, the first flower of success after a period of darkness. Snyder went one way. His most valuable asset went another.

“God,” Robert Griffin III said, “is on our side.”

Well, that was un-confirmable, but you can understand that observation every bit as much as Snyder’s. This is the fun part, after all, the nothing-to-lose part, the part Pat Riley once called the “innocent climb,” in which low expectations and a low profile combine for splendid reward.

At this moment in time, you still would rather be the Giants. You still would rather be the head that wears the crown, no matter how heavy the weight. You’d still rather be defending the Lombardi Trophy than trying to steal it. But the Redskins have had their say. And will be heard from again.

“It’s still in our hands,” Giants tackle Will Beatty said, “but we just made it a lot harder on ourselves.”

Harder, yes. But they’re still the ones in front. Just don’t tell Dan Snyder. He may ask for a word or two with you.